


death and the maiden

by sapphfics



Series: we mask our past in the green of eden [1]
Category: Ghost Quartet - Malloy, Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Crossover Pairings, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 07:49:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13713213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphfics/pseuds/sapphfics
Summary: This time, though, Rose awakens to the sound of train whistle and the smell of morphine and feels as though she is floating.“What’d he entice you with this time?” The most beautiful woman she has ever seen appears in front of her, glass of whiskey in her hand. “Money? Power? Fame? It’s all lies, darling. All he ever does is lie.”





	death and the maiden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelb0y](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelb0y/gifts).



> **dedication:** to cas who inspired this fic with the quote “ultimate power couple is rose red gq and persephone hadestown” as well as their never ending kindness and ability to put up with my bullshit and also cos i’m still working on The Three Other Fics i said i’d write for them  
>  **notes:** wrote this on a 10 hour plane ride in a sickness induced haze, no excuse really also the title is from a famous het poem but i stole it for the gays also persephone and hades are whatever the godly version of divorced is but she still has to stick with the contract because i do not condone cheating at all

_let me read you a story,_  
_let me read you a romance,_  
_i will read, you will listen_  
_and this terrible night will pass_  
— i don’t know, ghost quartet

* * *

 

Rose has lost count of how many times she has died, but she knows that this time is different. Her times in the afterlife is usually filled with an endless darkness, as she’s assaulted by sound and the odour of flowers, the flower for which she is named. It never ends until she wakes up in a new body and the circle begins once more.

This time, though, Rose awakens to the sound of train whistle and the smell of morphine and feels as though she is floating.

“What’d he entice you with this time?” The most beautiful woman she has ever seen appears in front of her, glass of whiskey in her hand. “Money? Power? Fame? It’s all lies, darling. All he ever does is lie.”

“Where am I?” Rose asks, struggling for words. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Persephone,” She replies, downing the entire glass in one go. “Welcome to Hell. Or should I say, my version of Hell. Whatever.”

Rose puts a hand to her heart and feels no pulse. A chill runs down her spine. “Where is my sister? And the astronomer? And the bear?”

“No idea,” Persephone responds. “I don’t keep track of who comes down here, that’s my ex husband’s job. But no one’s been pushed in front of the train yet, so I guess they’re not here.”

Rose knows she will never stop looking over her shoulder for the rest of her days, but she feels freer with the knowledge that perhaps her counterparts are not with her. Maybe the circle will finally be broken.

“Alright,” Rose tells her and smiles for the first time in a long, long while. “My name is Rose, Rose Red.”

She spies a pot of stardust tucked away on a shelf as Persephone shakes her hand.

“Want a drink?” Persephone responds, already pouring herself another glass.

Rose nods. “Who is the he you mentioned?”

Persephone lets out a groan. “My ex husband. He runs this dreadful place and keeps thinking his money will somehow win my back.”

Rose thinks of Lady Usher, of their failing marriage, of the way she had looked when her heart burst inside of her chest. “I’m sorry.”

Rose cannot remember the last time she said those words and meant it.

Persephone’s lips quirk up. “It’s okay, I can handle it. I’ve got a tally and everything...three more months ‘til I’m free of him for six.”

Rose wonders how Persephone’s ex husband would look as he died. She hates rather easily and this man clearly deserves it.

“Can’t you just leave?” Rose asks. She thinks of another life, one where her brother ran away to New York City to escape the stench of her rotting corpse.

“Nope,” Persephone says, despairingly. “He’s got me on a contract, fucking asshole. If it were up to me, I’d never come back here. But he pays me decently, unlike the others who work for him, and my mother and I need the money.”

“So,” Rose sits on a stool in front of the bar table. “What do you do? When you’re not here, I mean?”

“Can’t remember the last time someone asked me that without wanting a bucketful of sunshine for free,” Persephone muses. “My mother and I give flowers and food for the people, and if no one takes too much we will always have enough. And so far, no one has dared to try.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Rose doesn’t remember any lifetime where she ever did anything so selfless. It was always about Pearl, The Astronomer and vengeance. “How the hell did you end up...here?”

She hears the screech of machinerey and the screams of a dying worker who will be nothing more than another number in a statistic and covers her ears briefly.

“Long story,” Persephone tries to wave the question away by turning away from Rose and reaching for another bottle of whiskey. “I was young and stupid and truly believed he loved me. I know better now.”

Rose imagines the last time Pearl died, only this time it is she who shoves this horrid man in front of the train and watches the train rip through him.

Rose knows better than to play another game of loving someone out of want for something. Her sister is not here. She feels as though a weight has been lifted from her chest.

She spots a fiddle in the corner of the room and almost wants to throw up.

“What’s wrong?” Persephone asks. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“May as well have,” Rose tells her. “When she died…a man cut off my sister’s breastbone and made it into a fiddle.”

Persephone wrinkles her nose in disgust, she sees where Rose is looking and throws the fiddle into the fire without a second thought. “Sounds like something out of a campfire tale.”

“Yeah,” Rose agrees. She looks down at her clothes to see no blood. She is grateful to be clean. She is grateful to be alive, even if it is in this woman’s hell.

Sunlight flows through the window and Persephone’s green dress practically glows. It’s almost the same colour as the soldier girl she had once loved, who she shot in a dark alleyway at two am. She can still recall the way they danced, how the tears felt upon her dress.

She wishes there was more she could do, but for now she drinks with Persephone and keeps her attention the entire night. They’re drunk on moonshine when Persephone puts a hand on her knee and Rose doesn’t pull away.

.

Persephone’s ex husband, Hades, can’t even figure out how she got there but she’s smart enough to refuse to sign any of the papers he puts before her.

Persephone laughs at that. “You learn quick, that’ll do you well here.”

“He says he can’t put me to work until I sign the papers,” Rose says. “Which I won’t do, so I guess you’re stuck with me for now.”

“I don’t mind,” Persephone says, grinning with all her teeth. “I could use the company.”

Rose kisses her for the first time that night, taste of whiskey and moonshine blending together.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” Rose swears. “I’ll find a way. I’ll burn that fucking contract myself if I have to.”

Persephone looks as though she is thinking of tradgedy. “You can try, but nothing changes.”

Rose is determined to bring her back into the sunshine for enternity, and if her many lives with her sister has proved anything, she will do whatever it takes to achieve her goals.

Rose holds onto Persephone’s hand as though it is her only anchor to the world, and perhaps it is. Rose wouldn’t have it any other way.

After Pearl, taking over Hell should be easy.

.

.

.

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> i have No Idea what i just wrote but whatever, i hope you liked it! <3


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